Red Mars deserves a place in the American literary canon, and not as an exemplar of "hard SF," scifi's most pocket-protected sub-genre, but as a compelling, substantive text that has something distinctive to say about life in the present and, perhaps, about being American. Let me fail to explain:SPECULATIVE REALISMMuch as I detest "X is the new Y" comparisons and describing anything as "like Yelp for dogs" etc, Kim Stanley Robinson might be science fiction's George Elliot. Minute in attention, broad in scope, sunny in outlook, Robinson is trying to tell you about how a particular slice of society actually lives in changing times, what their day-to-day lives are like, their aspirations and failings, without resorting to implausible or even supernatural plot twists. He thinks the specific reality of life is meaningful. It's just that the specific reality he's trying to document happens to be the first human colony on Mars, which, if you haven't been keeping up, does not actually exist."Hard SF" is usually how people categorize this book, a term with no particularly "hard" definition itself, but which generally describes scifi with a commitment to plausibility given current knowledge: no faster-than-light travel, no time warping, and dear lord no mystical "forces" that let you choke enemies from across tables and convince storm troopers that the droids in your speeder, the droids that match the description the storm troopers were given with remarkable exactitude, are not, in fact, the droids for which they are looking. Minus the spaceships and droids, though, plausibility seems like the rubric by which realism as a genre is defined, so why aren't we calling this "realist SF" or "speculative realism"? The fact that it's set in the future doesn't seem adequate to me given the pains to which Robinson goes to keep things grounded in science.And it's interesting for the same reasons realist fiction can be interesting! What do they eat? What occupies their time? What do they believe and why did they choose this life? How do people respond to a completely untouched landscape, individually and collectively? How do people construct meaning between the crushing rock of history and the hard infinitude of the future? Small-scale interpersonal relationships, modern conventional realism's monotonic obsession, get their say, but only as one of many aspects of humanity's reaction to a new world, i.e. people hook up and break up, but there's more to their lives than just that.Sax Russell, the book's most prominent scientist and, one suspects, the author's avatar, specifically espouses a sort of religion of realism, which he refers to as his fascination with the "thisness" of things, the unique nature of everything real, and its particular history and explanation. "Haecceity" is the word he uses, apparently a philosophical term describing this very concept, which is kind of wonderful. Robinson throws this in there somewhat nonchalantly as one offshoot of John Boone's rambling monologue, but it comes up again and again in the series and clearly underpins Sax's worldview, and most likely that of Robinson as well. If that's not realism I don't know what is.MYSTERYI feel like I'm describing this book as some kind of excruciatingly tedious litany of what the first Martians had for breakfast every day, like "Instagram: the Novel" or something, but it's not! Ok it is a bit, but I think Robinson succeeds in moving beyond breakfast (which, let's face it, was pretty awesome in Patrick O'Brien's novels) to weaving a rich sense of mystery and what I can only describe as secular spirituality into the book. Sure, you need to learn what the word "aphelion" means and endure stretches of several pages that essentially amount to the description of subsequent craters and their tiny variations in color, but you also get to wonder about why John died, WTF happened to Hiroko, and whether or not she's insane or a visionary and whether or not those are mutually exclusive. Hiroko is Robinson's mystic archetype. She alone sees the need for new ritual and ceremony on Mars, and to infuse them not with awe for the supernatural but with awe for the abundant miracles of reality. Plus, she's kind of nuts, she barely speaks, her followers all eat dirt, and she disappears. She's magic! You could argue that's she's a bit of a stereotype (mysterious Asian teaching white folk about life force and free love), but I love that a geek like Robinson puts someone like Hiroko into a book like this, because I feel like that love of mystery and wonder at reality that infuses Hiroko's religion is the kernel of spirituality that remains in those of us who've given up religion, and that in fact drives many of us intent on exploration and learning.TECHNOLOGICAL OPTIMISM AND THE PHILOSOPHY OF ENGINEERINGTechnological optimism hasn't really been in style since the atomic bomb, and the wonders of science and technology have since been repeatedly mired in themes of hubris. With that kind of literary background, Robinson's can-do optimism about planetary exploration and terraforming can seem naive, even idiotic at times, but it's also refreshing, and, at least to me, reminiscent of the attitude many of us in software engineering have toward our work. I feel like the kind of technological optimism critiqued for being hubristic generally views science and technology as an external force that will solve your problems for you, that if you must ask, is self-evidently superior to however you've been dealing with your problems until now, but seriously don't worry about it, this science shit is going to take care of things and you can finally get down to that totally sweet life of leisure you've always dreamed of. Robinson's optimism is different. In Red Mars, science and technology haven't solved the characters' problems, and no one assumes they will. Rather they're tools the characters use to try and solve problems themselves. Science is not a religion you subscribe to blindly in this book, but a mindset you have in learning about the world. Technology is not here to save you from reality but a tool you use to change it. I feel like this is how most scientists and engineers think, and it is rarely depicted in fiction with any accuracy (am I wrong?), and almost never as the a priori mentality of an entire society.There's something American in this attitude as well, not in the secular humanism but in the tempered optimism so many of the characters have (even though they're not all American). I'm not trying to say that Americans have a lock on sunny outlooks, but it is a deeply-rooted part of our self image, probably linked to Turner and the Frontier Thesis. Actually, reading that Wikipedia article makes me wonder if Robinson explicitly modeled these books on Turner's work, because the availability of land and the battle with the elements certainly play a role in the formation of a new society and human identity, but instead of overthrowing monarchy and aristocracy, the Martians seek to overthrow patriarchy and plutocracy (again, it's cooler than it sounds!), among other things. Now I want to read Turner, and all the Turner haters. Oi.As a sort of aside, I also just think it's fascinating that almost all the characters get most of their on-page rewards through work. They have relationships and get drunk and party and whatever, but their victories, epiphanies, and moments of satisfaction always seem to come about during work, or at least as the result of labor. Again, I feel like this is rare in fiction, but I also suspect this might be one of the things that makes this book seem current to me. I'd like to believe that as people sour on their disappointment with mass media mediocrity and internet ephemera, they are starting to refocus their professional lives on personally relevant subjects and their unprofessional lives on pastimes that aren't easy to master (sports, photography, playing music, knitting, etc.). I see this happening in my admittedly bubble-ish circle of acquaintances, but I guess that's not evidence. Anyway, it seemed relevant to me. ENVIRONMENTAL ETHICSOne of the core dilemmas of environmental ethics is whether things only have value because humanity values them (they're pretty, delicious, filter our water, protect us from tsunamis, etc) or because they have intrinsic value and would be worth something even if there were no sentient observers to say so. Robinson adopts this as a fundamental current throughout the book and the series in the form of Ann and Sax's arguments over whether Mars should be terraformed at all. Ann believe Mars is a pristine wilderness and that the intact, inorganic world has beauty and integrity that should be protected from the wrenching process of terraforming and the introduction of life. Sax is initially an anthropocentrist, arguing that life has a duty to propagate, that disseminating our biological heritage is both sensible and right. This is pretty important stuff if you give a toss about nature, and I LOVED seeing it explored in a novel. Ann's dogged, bitter idealism is so compelling to me, even though I'm really more of an anthropocentrist. I suspect Robinson feels the same, because Sax wins all the rational arguments and Mars gets terraformed, but Ann's righteousness and conservationist zeal leaves its mark on everyone, and becomes a founding tenet of Martian culture, so I think he sees a role for both mindsets.Christ that was long! And not entirely coherent, but whatever. I'll be much more brief for the sequels. I think this book is the awesome, obviously, and while I hesitate to recommend it to everyone, if you *think* you might like it you should give it a try, even if the cover is dumb.
I have just returned from Mars.Well, I haven't of course but it feels a little like that. I feel like I have been one of the pioneer colonists struggling to tame Mars for posterity. That is how immersive this book can be, though it is not actually quite so engrossing throughout every page but even to attain that level of engrossment at times is a significant achievement by the author.I believe this is one of the most popular sf series ever, I have certainly seen it in many "best of" lists, each book in the series has awards up the wazoo. It is not Dune or Enders Game big but if those are XLs this series is definitely an L. Red Mars, the first volume of Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars Trilogy, falls into the subgenre of hard science fiction. It is set in the near future (2026), the science is based on and extrapolated from known science, there are no extraterrestrials, time traveling or FTL travels here.This may not appeal to scifi fans who read books to have their mind blown by bizarre goings on, but for me variety is what keeps sf from becoming stale. Another advantage of hard sf is that it requires very little in the way of suspension of disbelief.What surprises me about this novel though is the amount of character development in this book, not a common feature of scifi in general, even less so for hard scifi. This is both a strength and weakness of the book because while it is good to be invested in the main characters the emotional scenes can descend into melodrama or even soap operatic. Interestingly considering that Red Mars is very hard sf, KSR clearly has a lot of respect to the Mars themed scifi classics like Bradbury's The Martian Chronicles and Edgar Rice Burroughs's Barsoom / Mars books. Considering how much of the book seems to involve battle of the sexes I am glad he does not include any reference to that awful "Mars" book "Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus".On the world building and technological side I find it all very plausible and often vivid. One of my favorite scifi technology is the space elevator, popularized by Arthur C. Clarke's award winning The Fountains of Paradise which is due for a reread very soon. The achievements of the scientists / colonists in this book make me think of the amazing height mankind can achieve if we put our minds to it, and the almost inevitable fall from grace through our usual infighting and folly. The process of colonization, terraformation and chaos is very convincingly portrayed here. The politics and the colonists' fight for independence also bring to mind Heinlein's classic The Moon is a Harsh Mistress.I am tempted to rate Red Mars at five stars but in all honesty there are some rather dull passages or chapters in this book. Looking at some of the less than enthusiastic reviews I came across quite a few comments along the line of "boring" and "like reading a text book". I don't really get the "text book" allegation as I don't think Robinson spends that much time explaining the techs, but I certainly find some of the arduous journey parts of this book almost interminable. If there is a major flaw in this book I believe it to be the pacing, occasionally it grinds to a halt or become rather turgid. This is not actually a deal breaker though, a lot of it is fascinating and very readable, you just have to be patient and not expect the story to be a pulse pounding page turner all the time. By the time I finished the book I realized the whole of it is greater than the sum of its parts, viewed as a whole in retrospect it is a very worthwhile read.So I think a four stars rating is fair, and I look forward to reading the other two volumes.
Do You like book Red Mars (1993)?
Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars trilogy is well-regarded by SF fans, but it didn't really live up to the hype for me, though it's an excellent entry in the hard SF genre. Robinson's prose is not as lyrical as Ray Bradbury's, but it's not as dry as Ben Bova's either. Red Mars seems to synthesize elements from all of Robinson's predecessors — it's a Heinleinesque adventure at times, with hard SF infodumps, but actual characters, and shout-outs to every author who's ever touched Mars, including Burroughs.Red Mars is the tale of the first Martian colony, and covers a couple of generations of history. The "First Hundred" who established the original settlement become larger-than-life, almost mythical figures to those who follow after them, but as Mars begins to be taken over by political and economic factions bringing old issues of exploitation and oppression (followed by resistance and terrorism) from Earth, the Hundred are just as conflicted and prone to squabbling and working at cross-purposes as all the other settlers.Early on, there is a huge debate over terraforming Mars, eventually becoming a conflict between the "Reds" and the "Greens." Eventually other cultures arrive on Mars and have their own ideas of what it means to be a Martian settler. Muslims make up a substantial segment of the population, as do Russians and other nationalities, all wanting to have an equal stake in Martian society.The ending shows the surviving members of the Hundred witnessing what happens after decades of emigration and development on Mars, with much of what has been built up brought down by an uprising among the children of Mars.If you are a space exploration geek, and especially if you are one of those who still dreams of a Mars expedition in our lifetime, then Red Mars may fire you up with a realistic view of what emigration to Mars might actually look like. It is almost certainly not an accurate picture of what will actually happen, should we ever get that far, but it's a realistic picture of what could happen.I give this book 4 stars for being one of the best Mars books out there, but 3 stars for enjoyment, because the story and the characters just did not grab me enough to wonder, "What happens next?" So, a 3.5 star book.
—David
Red Mars is a big book in many ways. The first of a trilogy it imagines the first few decades of colonisation of Mars. It's a well thought out book taking into account the complexity of politics and religions that shape our life on Earth and how these divisions in human society will also affect life on Mars. Can I also whisper that I also found it just a little bit boring and slow in places. Not because of the detail that Robinson goes into describing the colonisation process, the geography and landscapes of Mars or the details of the science involved in terraforming but because the style of the writing is just a bit flat and perfunctory. A lot happened in this book but the highs and lows are dampened. Which is odd, because the author choose to start the book with a major incident that occurs in the middle of the story when really there seems no rhyme or reason for it to be there out of context.Parts of the story are told from the POV of different characters and while this makes it more interesting, the tone is exactly the same, flat and slightly dry.I was also a little disappointed that the first challenges of settling on Mars were somewhat glossed over. A hundred scientists and engineers were selected to form the first colony. They rapidly establish air-filled habitats, wear special skin suits to go out and explore Mars and quickly develop huge gardens of plants and trees. In some ways this book is the antithesis of The Martian, which in comparison to this was perhaps a little over-exuberant in tone, but dealt with important issues like generating oxygen and water, getting plants to grow in Martian soil, managing human waste and recycling. Nevertheless, the scope of the book is impressive. I loved the details about the Mars landscape and the types of settlements that could be built there and the types of activities that could be undertaken to terraform the land. The tensions between the 'Reds', those who want to keep Mars as it is and stop the multinationals grabbing all its minerals and sending them back to a mineral-hungry Earth and the 'Greens', those who want to turn it into a version of Earth, highlighted the dilemma we will face if man ever does leave Earth to colonise another planet. How will we manage to organise a new society without taking our racial and religious tensions with us and how can we prevent the multinationals from taking control when so much money will be needed for such an enterprise? 3.5★
—Carolyn
Tengo la sensación de que, en el futuro cuando el ser humano llegue a Marte, esta historia se convertirá en un libro de culto.¿Por qué? Porque Kim Stanley Robinson realiza aquí un tratado social, psicológico, político, geográfico y moral de la existencia de seres humanos en Marte.En ocasiones he tenido la sensación de leer un libro de historia de lo que ocurrió en ese planeta hace años, en otras, un estudio arquitectónico de cómo construir una lugar habitable en Marte.Todo esto es muy bonito e interesante pero este libro carece de una cosa: de historia.Crear una historia no es solamente poner unos personajes en un escenario interactuando entre ellos. El lector necesita empatizar con los personajes, sentir emoción, suspense, pensar que el/la protagonista va a fallar en su cometido y en el último momento triunfa (o no). Y a esta novela le falta historia.La mejor manera que tengo para expresarlo es que ha sido como viajar en tren, por la ventanilla ves cosas bonitas e interesante, otras no tanto; pero cuando llegas al destino te has olvidado del paisaje porque no te ha afectado en nada.Yo como lector "quiero" estar en ese paisaje, sentir frío, calor, reírme, pasar miedo...y esta novela no lo consigue.
—Jeraviz
